Just Like the King

Chapter 1

Alex Moran stood on a long walkway in front of a large, dark mansion which was in the centre of London. The first thing she saw was the marble fountain in a green garden. It was lovely enough to play in, Alex mused to herself, if she only enjoyed playing outside. The social worker, who claimed to be called Denver, walked up behind her from the small white car that had driven them, and placed his hand on her back. She jerked away from him and growled.

"Touch me again, and I will drown you in the fountain." She warned him.

Denver laughed, assuming it was a joke. No seven year old could have the power to kill someone, right? He walked them up to the doors of the house. They were dark wood with two neatly cleaned crystal windows. Underneath the windows were two knockers in the shape of tiger heads with sky blue gems in the place of eyes. Denver raised one knocker handle and knocked three times on the mahogany doors. A man in an expensive-looking suit opened the door. He scowled at the two standing in his doorway, and his look gave off the impression that the visit was very unwelcome.

"What do you want?" The short man snapped. He had an Irish accent, which made Alex smile a bit.

"Are you Sebastian Moran?" Denver asked the man, with too nice of a voice. That had bothered Alex. She hated people who were nice and obviously smiling too much. The man standing in the doorway, however, seemed to take Alex's fancy.

"No." The man said, rolling his eyes.

"Might you be able to tell me where he is? I have his daughter here. We did speak over the phone about her custody." Denver said.

The man sighed. He was annoyed. Alex smiled once again. He liked this man.

"Fine. Come inside, don't track dirt in."

Denver smiled and walked in. Alex slipped her shoes off as she was entering the house. She held them as she looked around. The inside of the mansion was even more elegant than the front garden. There was a grand staircase leading up to a second floor, and lined with velvet carpeting. The ceiling was white with many chandeliers hanging from it. The floor was tiled with a dark marble, obviously cleaned and waxed very recently. The walls were black with white decorations, very classy. All doors Alex could see were the same as the front doors, and immediately to her left was an open room with a fireplace and a tiger skin lying on the floor. A desk was set up in the corner, accompanied by a dark, blood red sofa and matching arm chairs. She was impressed. The little Irishman came back from down the hall, followed by a much taller man with blonde hair, cut military-style. The two were drastically different in many ways, but seemed very comfortable around each other. The tall blonde stuck out his hand to Denver. Alex noticed his arm was tan and muscled. So this was her father. She always wondered what he looked like.

"I'm Sebastian Moran." The blonde said.

Denver shook his hand.

"I'm Denver Felt, a social worker from the child care department. We spoke over the phone earlier this week."

"Yes, I remember." Sebastian said. He didn't smile either, but didn't have black, emotionless eyes like the Irishman.

"This is Alexandra Grace Moran, your daughter." Denver introduced the seven year old girl.

"Call me Alexandra Grace, and I assure your immediate demise." Alex said, glaring at all three of the men.

Sebastian nodded.

"Hello, Alex." He said.

"Hello." Alex said, finally looking into her father's eyes for the first time.

"Right, well here are some papers I need by the end of next week. I've left her bags by the front door." Denver said. Sebastian nodded.

"Thank you." He said as he accepted the file of papers. And with another handshake, Denver was gone and Alex was alone with her father and a funny little Irishman.